About a month ago, specifically March 7, I happened upon a road called Furlough Drive. At first it looked like this short little harmless stretch of asphalt in a housing development, but oh boy, was I ever taken for a ride.
I should have listened to people who had gone before me and told me the road was deceptively short, but the trip seemed to last five days (specifically, eight hours of travel per day) no matter how fast you were going, how many miles you logged or even if you just sat on the shoulder.
I went down Furlough Drive and it led me straight to Portland, Oregon. Funny because I know people who went down the same road and claimed it took them to faraway lands such as Florida, California, Texas, even New York. All traveling the same road! A couple folks told me Furlough Drive led them straight to their house.
The odd thing is that while I was driving down Furlough Drive and passed such entertaining places as the Rose Garden arena, the Oregon Coast and my old hometown, I was completely unable to correspond with any of my work colleagues via phone. Wild!
Even weirder was the fact that my vacation down Furlough Drive did not result in me making one red cent. I have confirmed with the others I spoke to that drove down the same road, that they had the same thing happen.
The most glaring absurdity behind this is that originally I thought it was only myself and my colleagues who had discovered Furlough Drive. I passed a couple of them on the first and second days of my trip, then on Day 3 I happened upon some California state workers and even tried to teach this French auto parts worker some English at a diner (I was able to understand something about him helping hold his CEO hostage or something). By Day 5, Furlough Drive was absolutely clogged with traffic from every place imaginable.
Furlough Drive is a blessing and a curse at the same time. The incredible journey it led me on resulted in me being absolutely non-productive from a work standpoint, but able to see loved friends and visit the place I yearn to belong again someday.
True to form, after one week of enjoying the trip in my car down Furlough Drive, it spit me right back out in the Ozarks again. After I returned to my job, I was told by my superiors that I would be able to enjoy another excursion sometime within the next three months.
See you again in June, Furlough Drive!
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